


We Meet Again, Harry Dresden

by xserpx



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 20:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xserpx/pseuds/xserpx
Summary: Harry Dresden once again finds himself in a perilous situation, with almost certain Armageddon right outside the door. And there's a familiar figure he really wishes he wouldn't keep bumping into.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 91





	We Meet Again, Harry Dresden

**Author's Note:**

> Posted on tumblr in August 2015.

“Crap,” I grumbled, my voice shivering a little from the cold. In my experience, dank, old prisons are rarely warm, and this one was no exception. But even so the temperature had dropped significantly, and the patch of darkness I’d thought was a long shadow a moment before took a step toward me. Two pinpoints of blue, fiery light blazed among the black, illuminating the white, bleached bone of a human skull.

“WE MEET AGAIN, HARRY DRESDEN.”

  
My day had been so bad that at this point I wasn’t even surprised. “_Again,_” I mumbled. “Egads.” I waved a manacled hand at Death, and said, my tone conversational, “How many times has it been this year? Three? Four?”

“FIVE, IF YOU INCLUDE THE PIRANHA POND.”

“Right.” I tugged on the manacles again, hoping that maybe the universe would throw me a bone and make one of the screws pop out of the wall. Whoever had prepared the cell, however, seemed to have inconsiderately replaced the old manacles with shiny new ones. I could still see the darkened patches of red rust that had surrounded the previous, blissfully worn fittings, both on the ceiling and on the floor within the ring of silver that was the containment circle.

“Dammit,” I hissed, my wrists burning from where the iron dug in. Even with my duster’s sleeves covering them, the sharp edges left white furrows in my skin. “You any good at picking locks?”

“NO. SORRY.”

“The scythe cuts through metal, though, right?”

Death cocked his head to one side, as if carefully considering the question. “MY SCYTHE SEVERS THE STRINGS OF LIFE. IT SLICES THROUGH THE VERY FABRIC OF REALITY. ITS BLADE EXISTS IN THE SPACES BETWEEN ATOMS, IN THE NOTHINGNESS FROM WHICH EVERYTHING WAS BORN. I AM NOT SURE IF IT CUTS THROUGH METAL. I HAVE NEVER TRIED.”

“Well…” I jangled the chains and waggled my eyebrows, grinning. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“SORRY,” Death said. I could have sworn the skull face looked genuinely apologetic.

“Not even if I say pretty please?”

Death shook his head gravely. “NO.”

I sighed. “You omnipresent, primordial personification types are never any help.” I gave up on my wrists and started trying to pull on the manacles that were fastened to my ankles instead.

Death just stood there, watching me struggle.

"So," I said. "What happens now? I take it I'm about to die."

"I AM NOT HERE FOR YOU," Death said.

I blinked at him. “Come again?”

"YOUR FATE IS ALREADY DECIDED."

"You mean I'm going to _ live_?!" I said, incredulous.

"YES."

I just stared at him. I mean, technically I already _knew_ I’d live - wizards generally know how long they have left on the clock - but considering the circumstances I still thought it was a little optimistic of me, especially when Death had just turned up.

“I'm tied up, locked in a containment circle, with ravenous monsters outside and Armageddon about to happen in two hours if I'm not there to stop it, and you're telling me I'm going to _ live_?!"

Death regarded me with a knowing look. "YES."

"How?"

"THAT, I CANNOT SAY."

"Then... How do you know I'll live?"

Death's eyes shone. "NARRATIVE CAUSALITY," he said. "WHEN THE HERO IS IN TROUBLE UP TO HIS EYEBALLS, HE WILL FIND SOME UNLIKELY WAY OF ESCAPE. IT IS THE WAY OF THE UNIVERSE.”

“Ohhhh,” I said. “I get it. Stories have power." I pulled on the chains with all four limbs, to no avail. "Well. That’s encouraging.”

“YES.”

“Or maybe not. I mean, in order to escape I have to be up to my eyeballs in trouble. So for the universe to align properly, it means it first has to conspire against me.”

“YES.”

“Hence the manacles, the circle, the ghouls…”

“HENCE ARMAGEDDON," Death finished.

I thought about it for a second. “Okay, so if you're not here for me, then who are you here fo--?"

That was when the warlock came crashing against the iron bars of my cell and fell to the ground in a dead heap. He got up again a second later and looked down at his body, stamping his foot in childish frustration.

"Bloody vampires!" he said. "Didn't even give me a chance to cast a spell! How bloody unfair is that?!"

"LIFE IS NEVER FAIR," said Death. He paused and added, "OR SO I'VE HEARD."

"Yeah, well," the warlock sniffed. "I spent ages practising, and now it turns out it was a waste of time."

"I AM SORRY TO HEAR THAT."

"It would've been really good."

"YES?"

"Had explosions and everything."

"GOSH, DID IT REALLY?"

They faded from sight, still talking amicably, and I sighed with relief. As friendly as Death could be, it was still disconcerting as hell to see him around the place, especially as often as I did. Most people only ever saw him once.

"I need to stop getting myself into situations like this," I muttered to no one in particular.

"_Now_ he cottons on," came a sardonic female voice from the other side of the cell door.

"I doubt it'll stick," said the voice I recognized as my half-brother's.

They came into view and Murphy smiled up at me, her blue eyes sparkling, her cheeks rosy with the exertion of battle.

"Hey Harry," she said, checking the clip on her gun as Thomas used his vampiric super strength to break the lock of the cell and then pull all four manacles out of the wall, easy peasy. "We're here to bust you out."

“About time,” I said, grinning.


End file.
